Ranger's a Lucky
by RobinL
Summary: Ranger's a Lucky... The Merry Men contemplate how lucky Ranger is to be with Steph. Each chapter is a stand alone from the POV of one of the Merry Men. Set post EOT. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Distracted

Title: Distracted

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: All belongs to JE, I own nothing.

Rating: R for language and sexual situations

A/N: This is set in some nebulous future where Steph and Ranger are an item. Spoilers through EOT.

Lester's POV

My ass had been warming this hard, wooden stool and nursing this bottle of beer for the last forty-five minutes. I had long since peeled the label off the bottle, the contents were now room temperature and my back was starting to ache from sitting in this position for so long.

I'd been staking out this bar in anticipation of a high-dollar skip making an appearance. All in all, the bar wasn't that bad, a little nicer than the average hole-in-wall that our low-life targets frequented.

How it normally went was, when I made the ID, I'd let the team know and they were supposed to send in the distraction. The distraction, of course, consisted of Stephanie Plum in a non-existent outfit flirting with the skip and using her considerable feminine wiles to get him out of the bar and into the waiting arms of the rest of the team.

No fuss, no muss, no barroom brawl. It was cheaper to keep Stephanie in new shoes than pay for repairs to crappy bar furniture all over Trenton. And collateral damage in bar fights led to stupid law suits that just wasted time and money.

Usually it was a pretty quick and simple operation. I'd go in, the skip would be there, drowning their sorrow and I'd signal for Stephanie.

Tonight was a little different. I had signaled that the skip was here and nothing happened. He was sitting just a few feet from me, drinking a beer of his own and staring into the mug as if it held all the answers. I repeated the signal. Maybe there was a comm failure. I'd been about to abandon my post, when Tank's voice came through my ear piece.

"Stephanie isn't here yet, hold your position and keep him in sight."

That was over a half-hour ago.

So, I sat, trying to occupy myself in a bar, alone. Couldn't drink too much. Couldn't hit on anyone. Couldn't understand why they were showing curling on the television behind the bar. It had to be the least exciting sporting activity known to man, about as exciting as watching paint dry or beer get warm (which was my other option).

Finally, Tank reported, "Yo, Stephanie and the boss just pulled up. She'll be right in."

Thank God. If we didn't get this show on the road, I wasn't gonna be able to feel my legs when I went to get up. I drained the rest of my bottle, signaling the bartender for another. I had to force my eyes back to my bottle when I caught site of Stephanie walking through the door.

My throat got dry and my pants got tight and I wished I'd ordered something a little stronger than a beer.

Christ, she was beautiful normally... in just jeans and a t-shirt. But when she worked these jobs, she really knew how to play up her... uh... assets. You'd have to be a monk not to find her attractive tonight. She was wearing a black leather mini skirt, impossibly high shoes that made her legs look endless and a lace top in flame red that showcased her perfect breasts. But, it wasn't just that. There was a glow about her tonight, a bounce in her step, and a confidence in the toss of her hair. She looked like a woman who had been well-fucked and who had enjoyed it thoroughly. One guess as to what had kept her.

Ranger's a lucky bastard, I thought, as I swallowed a long draw of beer and tried to calm my body's natural reaction. If he knew what she did to me, he'd have my balls on a platter. He was like a big brother to me, I'd never violate his trust, but I couldn't control my dreams and every night after a distraction, Stephanie was bound to play a featured role.

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear away the images and focus instead on Stephanie here and now. The eyes of all men and a few women had followed her progress from the door to the bar. She took an empty seat next to the skip, not looking at him and ordering a drink. He was practically drooling.

She looked over at him casually and smiled. I couldn't tell what she was saying, but from her body language I could tell she was flirting heavily.

With my ear piece, I could only get communications from Tank in the truck. The take-down team and Tank could hear her, but the inside man, me in this case, was on a limited frequency. We'd started doing that after the first few distraction jobs that Stephanie worked. Some of the outrageous things that would come out of her mouth while she was doing her thing had caused me and other guys in my position to practically piss themselves with laughter and nearly blow their cover and the job.

So, I couldn't hear the words, but I knew the gist of what she was saying, and this guy was into it. Made it seem like a good idea to go FTA just so I could get Stephanie to press up against me like that and talk dirty to me.

After a few moments, she slipped off of her stool and held out her hand. The skip threw some bills down on the bar, took her hand in his and they walked toward the front door. I waited only a moment before reporting that the target was leaving with Stephanie. I left money for my own tab and followed them out.

By the time I made it through the door, the skip was on the ground with Bobby's knee in the small of his back and Stephanie was walking toward Ranger who was leaning against the side of Tank's Bronco. This had to have been the fastest distraction take-down in history.

I watched as she walked away from where I stood, her hips swaying gently and I thought again that Ranger's a lucky bastard.

"You've got that right, Santos," came Tank's voice in my ear. Fuck. I must have said that out loud. Which meant the entire team, except Stephanie, heard it. And if Ranger was wired, he'd heard it, too.

From the narrowed look Ranger was shooting my direction, I guessed he'd caught the comment.

Well, shit. Now I was in trouble. Ranger'd probably kick my ass on the practice mat for that and I'd no doubt be pulling the worst shifts and the crappiest surveillance posts for the foreseeable future. Beautiful.

Since I was done for the night, I removed my mic and ear piece, turning them off, and headed for my truck. I'd go home, alone, have that stronger drink, take a long, cold shower and hope that at least my dreams could be satisfying.

Hell, if she did visit me in my dreams tonight, I hoped she wore those shoes and nothing else.


	2. Observed

Title: Observed

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: Just playing, not mine.

A/N: Thanks to Stayce who suggest that I share Lester's pain from Distracted with the rest of the Merry Men. As such, this is a sorta sequel. Set after Eleven on Top in a world where Steph works for Ranger and they are engaging in a relationship of some sort, sexual at the very least.

Rating: R for language and sexual innuendo.

Woody's POV

There were some great things about working for RangeMan. For one, the benefits were excellent. Health, dental, 401K, accidental death... you name it. The salary was competitive, too. I actually had been able to start saving a nest egg for my first house. My co-workers were great guys and my boss was someone I entirely respected and admired... envied even.

The drawbacks were the hours, the danger (which was a plus, too), and that I spent most of my day with my butt in a chair monitoring security video. It was as exciting as watching curling on television, or watching ice melt... those two thing being virtually identical. But monitor duty was the primary job of new hires and I was low-man on the totem pole. Well, unless you count Stephanie.

Of course, Stephanie didn't fit the typical mold. She was a woman for one - the only one employed here unless you count the housekeeper, Ella. And she was sort of involved with the boss, which isn't to say that's the only reason she was here, but it did offer her a certain status among the employees and a deference the guys didn't normally show newbies. But mostly, Stephanie was an extraordinary woman. She'd been a bounty hunter for a couple of years now and was surprisingly good at it. She was also gorgeous. Not it a supermodel kinda way, but in a girl-next-door, take home to meet the parents, sexy-as-hell kinda way.

So, while I spent about 85 of my time watching the world through 12" TV screens, Stephanie spent about half of her time at a computer and half of her time in the field, mostly because Ranger couldn't keep her from going. Not that he'd admit it.

So, until Ranger hires another new guy, the highlight of my day is watching Lester singing to himself when he's at his desk and forgets that he's on candid camera and watching Stephanie in the gym.

Today, she was wearing my favorite outfit... little black sports bra and black spandex shorts. Short shorts. The first time she wore it, I almost fell out of the chair. Now, like a kid at Christmas, I looked forward to her running days when she abandoned the oversized t-shirts and shorts and let it all hang out.

The little known secret was if you wanted to storm RangeMan headquarters, the time to do it was between 11AM and 12PM on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I really wanted to do my job, but it was like passing a wreck on the side of the road, I just couldn't look away. When, she was running on the treadmill the motion of her breasts was mesmerizing. Every so often, I would switch to the other gym camera, so I could see her tight ass moving rhythmically, too. It was a toss up for me which view I liked better.

Toward the end of her workout, today, Ranger walked into the gym. I immediately sat a little straighter which was stupid - the man was in an entirely different part of the building - but some habits are hard to break. He sauntered over to her like a big cat stalking its prey. She smiled a come-hither smile and turned the treadmill off, leaning forward on the console and treating both Ranger and I to a tantalizing look at her cleavage.

Ranger leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was gentle at first, but became more heated as I watched, feeling a little naughty, but man, this was better than Cinemax. Stephanie responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers in his hair - pulling him in harder.

For a moment, I fantasized that I was in Ranger's shoes and Stephanie was wrapped in my arms, kissing me like her very life depended on it. Just for a moment, though. If I indulged for too long, I'd have to head to my apartment on the 4th floor for an unscheduled break and a cold shower.

I returned my attention to reality and saw that Ranger and Stephanie had broken apart, Stephanie was smiling mischievously. I knew that smile promised good things for Ranger later on.

"Ranger's a lucky bastard," I said quietly to myself.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard Tank's voice in my ear, "You've got that right, Woody."

I swallowed hard and looked over my shoulder to see Tank sternly staring, arms crossed over his barrel-sized chest. I turned and stood at attention.

"I believe there are other cameras in the building that require periodic monitoring. This isn't your private peep show."

"No, sir," I said, staring straight ahead, not meeting his eyes and feeling like the rawest recruit in bootcamp.

After a long moment of him staring me down, Tank said, "Back to work," and walked away.

I relaxed a little, blew out a sigh, then flopped back down in my chair. Shit. Of all the people to catch me, Tank was the most likely to tell Ranger. And, if Ranger found out, I could kiss goodbye any chance I had at being moved to a full-time field post anytime this decade.

I glanced back at the monitor to see Stephanie had resumed her run.

I smiled a little. Hell, if my punishment was endless monitor duty, I could learn to love it... if this was the view.


	3. Cased

Title: Cased

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: I only wish they were mine. I'm just playing in JE's sandbox.

A/N: This is the third in the Ranger's a Lucky Bastard series. (Thanks, redbiker, for the name.) It is set in a post EOT world where Ranger and Steph are an item.

Rating: R for language and sexual suggestion.

Bobby's POV

I shifted slightly in my seat. My ass was totally numb. Actually, everything from my waist down was numb, which was damned scary since some of my favorite body parts were below my belt. I knew from experience that this was a temporary condition. As soon as my surveillance shift ended and I could move around, I'd recover sensation. Still, I always had a little fear that this time the lack of circulation might do permanent damage.

I'd been sitting for the past four hours in a RangeMan SUV equipped with all the bells and whistles… heated seats, tinted windows, navigational system second only to the Space Shuttle and enough fire power on board to take down a small foreign government. My favorite feature, though, would have to be my partner for this evening, Stephanie Plum.

Surveillance with some of the guys was like watching C-SPAN or curling on television - no conversation, no nothing, total boredom. Ranger was the worst. The man could go into a Zen state where you'd swear he was a stone for all the movement he made. Steph was different. She always made surveillance gigs go faster, because she couldn't sit still for more than two minutes at a time. She could talk about anything or nothing for hours on end, or she could sit quietly like now smelling faintly of shampoo and perfume and entertain just by making me wonder what she'd be up to next.

I slid my gaze over to where she sat in the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard, an index finger playing idly with a long strand of curly brown hair. I hid my smile as she blew a large bubble from the gum she'd been chewing, looking more like a schoolgirl than a bounty hunter. It was amazing how she managed to remain so innocent in this world of psychopaths and evildoers even though I know she'd seen some of the worst of it up-close. That was what appealed to me most about Stephanie. She was attractive physically, don't get me wrong, but there was also something about her that made you want to protect her like a little sister. Okay, so the way my body reacted to her wasn't very brotherly - a minor detail.

A minor detail nobody, especially Ranger, needed to know. I respected him too much. And I feared him too much. Fact was sometimes I imagined that I persuaded her to leave Ranger, stealing her right out from under him. If he knew that, I'd be fish food.

She was Ranger's. Now, she'd kill me if she knew I thought that and then she would say she was her own woman, but fact was she belonged to Ranger. That alone kept my eyes from lingering on her long legs stretched out in front of her and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around my body. Okay, so it didn't stop me from wondering, but it kept me from reaching out and trying to makes dreams come true.

I mentally shook myself. Fantasy Island wasn't a good place to be when I had to sit two feet away from her, without touching, for two more hours.

I returned my eyes the building we were watching, hoping for some sign of life so we could wrap this case up. No luck though, the building was dark and deserted as it had been for the past week. I sighed and watched the nothingness.

True to form, within two minutes, Steph was moving again, rummaging through her bag for a moment and then turning to sit facing me, legs folded Indian style, with her back against the car door. I felt her eyes on me and wondered what could be going through that head of hers. I just kept my face blank and continued to stare out the windshield, pretending to be oblivious to her scrutiny. The longer she sat, the more I was sweating what might come out of her mouth. Now that she was more comfortable with me, she asked probing questions, personal questions, embarrassing questions and she never missed a detail. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but in Stephanie it made her good at her work and sometimes a little scary to be around.

She spit her gum out into a tissue and opened a bag of potato chips. Ranger would have a coronary if he saw the junk food this woman had put away in the past four hours. The evidence surrounded her feet in the form of empty wrappers and soda cans that had been discarded. With a rustle of plastic, Steph offered me some chips. I took one with a smile, waiting for the question that was buzzing in her brain.

Luckily, I was spared the Stephanie Inquisition by the sound of her cell ringing. She dove into her bag once more and pulled out the phone, smiling when she saw the caller ID. Ranger.

She turned away from me as she answered the phone with a "Yo," her voice low and damned sexy. I could see the way her body seemed to melt when she was talking to him. All the tension just flowed right out of her with a happy little sigh. I experienced a little stab of jealousy as I overheard her side of a rather suggestive conversation. I turned my head away and closed my eyes for a moment pretending that I was causing that husky little laugh that held such a pleasurable promise.

I was dragged out of my reverie by the vibration of my own cell.

"Brown," I answered.

"Yo. Change in the duty roster. Stephanie is needed for another job and boss wants me to relieve her," Tank said, "I'll be there in two."

I closed my cell and shook my head with a quiet chuckle. Last minute change in the duty roster, my numb ass. The only job Stephanie was likely to have anything to do with tonight might be of the blow variety. Somehow I doubt she'd view it as work, judging from her current conversation.

A few moments later, Ranger's truck pulled up next to me and Tank got out of the passenger seat. Steph closed her cell, gathered her crap, shoved it into her bag, gave me a smile and a little finger wave and swung out the passenger door. I watched as she walked around the front of the SUV and back to the passenger door of the truck. Her hips swayed with a natural sensuality and her lips were curved in a provocative smile.

She pulled herself up into the cab of the truck and leaned over the console, laying a kiss on Ranger. Her door was still open offering me a mouth-watering view of her curved ass. As I watched, Ranger slid his hand down her back and caressed one of her luscious cheeks. Oh, to be that hand.

"Damn, Ranger's a lucky bastard," I said, shifting in my seat once again, now for an entirely different reason. Good news was all my favorite parts were definitely still working.

"You've got that right, Brown," Tank said from beside me, causing me to jump. Shit, in all my fascination, I'd totally missed Tank getting in the truck. I smiled at him sheepishly and said a fervent prayer that he would keep this little scene to himself. He smiled back like a man who knew that he had me by the short and curlies. Hello blackmail.

He turned to look out the window. "Any action?" he asked.

"None," I said a little morosely not sure if he was referring to action inside or outside of the SUV. Outside, the building had been very quiet. Inside, the chance of me seeing action with Stephanie Plum was only slightly higher than me moving to Siberia, which is probably where I'd end up if I was stupid enough to make a move on her.

"Good," Tank said with a chuckle.

I shifted again, rolling my eyes at Tank in a patented Stephanie move and focused back on the job. I was already missing Stephanie's company as I resigned myself to what I knew would be an interminable wait.


	4. Captured

Title: Captured

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: The characters are JE's, I make nothing tangible from doing this, but I have a whole lot of fun.

A/N: This story is the fourth in the Ranger's a Lucky Bastard Series. It is set post EOT, in a world where Steph and Ranger are an item.

Rating: R

Cal's POV

It's funny the things that define a person to the outside world. Sometimes the dumbest, most superficial characteristics get you pigeon-holed by 99 percent of people.

For me it's the fact that I'm big, built like a linebacker on steroids. Oh, and I have a flaming skull tattooed on my head. It's easy for me to forget about it. I don't have to look at it that often.

Other people can't seem to see past it. People crossed the street to avoid me and I've made little old ladies faint. But, I can put the fear of God into a skip with just a look, so it can have its advantages. Mostly, though, it bothers me to be underestimated intellectually, to be feared unnecessarily and to have women shudder at the thought of coming near me.

There isn't much I can do about my size, but the tattoo is a real killer. You know how you have some friends who will talk you out of doing bonehead shit when you're drunk? Well, I didn't have any of them with me the night I got so wasted that I thought walking around with a tattoo on my face would be a good idea.

I just thank God I wasn't so drunk that I got "I Love Curling" tattooed there.

I know I could get it removed, but to be honest, I sort of like being a badass. It makes my job easier. But it's been a real killer on my love-life. I guess not all women dig the bad boy… or maybe they don't think the tat will work in the wedding photos.

Women who aren't trashy avoid me, so I guess when it comes time to settle down I'll get it taken off. Or maybe I'll get lucky and find a girl who can see beyond the skin.

I only know one woman like that, now. Stephanie Plum. We work together at RangeMan and when we first met, she saw me like everybody else did. Called me a steroidasaurus. And I'd played right into to the stereotype. Makes me chuckle to think about it now. But then at the time I'd written her off as another big-haired Jersey girl who was trying to play with the big boys when she didn't belong.

Turned out we were both wrong.

Steph, she' sharp. She notices things. She puts the pieces together. I like that about her. There's more than meets the eye with her. I mean, what meets the eye was very nice, but what really appeals to me about her is she can keep up with us even as a woman in a man's world.

Like now, for instance. We were standing on the front porch of a house preparing to take down an FTA that had been eluding RangeMan for over a week. Steph spent a day with the same information and was able to get it all to fall in place.

We were going to go through the front and Tank was covering the backdoor in case the skip ran. I'd knock and go in first if nobody answered. Steph would cover me and cuff him when I got him to the ground. Simple... on paper, at least.

We were all in place and I leaned my head toward Steph. She reached up to rub my tattoo. It was silly, but she seemed to think it brought us good luck, like rubbing Buddha's belly. She grinned at me and gave me a thumbs-up sign.

I entered, gun drawn when no one answered my knock. Steph followed, her Sig Sauer in hand.

The door opened into a small foyer and living room. There were three doorways leading from the room, one to the left, one to the right and one in the back. There was no sign of life, except the television, which was on. He was here, somewhere, but he was hiding. I felt a little jolt of adrenaline and I moved further into the room, trying to keep an eye on all of the doorways at once.

I motioned to Steph to cover the door to the left as I stepped toward the door on the right. That's when I heard the telltale ratchet of shotgun coming from backroom.

I grabbed Steph around the waist and dove behind the sofa, bringing her with me, rolling so that she was under me. Under normal circumstances, I would really enjoy being in this position, if it weren't for the fact that we might get shot. Using hand signals, I indicated for her to stay low while I edged to a position where I could see him approach. I focused all of my attention on listening to the skip's footsteps. When I heard him enter the room, I didn't hesitate. I sat up, aimed and fired. The shot grazed his left shoulder, and I cursed under my breath, but I was relieved when he dropped the shotgun to grab his shoulder. I rose, gun still ready, and approached him saying, "Put your hands on your head."

He moved his arms as if to comply, but instead, used his good arm to throw the table lamp next to him at my head. I moved in time to escape the worst of the blow, but it still glanced off the side of my head, knocking me to the floor.

The skip was fleeing for the front door, gun forgotten on the floor. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and struggled to my feet in an effort to head him off, only to see Steph make a flying tackle, catching the wiry man at the knees and bringing him to the ground. I ran over to help her and found her with one knee on the small of his back and a hand on the back of his neck, forcing his face into the worn carpet. She had the situation well in hand using the takedown techniques she'd been practicing for the past few months. She grinned at me as I knelt beside her and clicked the cuffs and shackles into place. She gave me a high five and then I gave her a hand up.

My hand tingled where it held hers and I looked down at her, her eyes shining, energy humming just under her skin. She was glowing from the rush of mission accomplished. Laughter bubbled up from within her and she let it escape as she turned to follow Tank who was dragging the skip out the front door.

I shook my head in amazement. What a woman… hot, smart, and an adrenaline junkie. One in a million.

I followed them out, shutting the door behind me and I watched Ranger roll up to the curb in his Carrera. Steph ran over to where he was emerging from the car and flung herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing him thoroughly. His hands came around her to support her ass and I saw his fingers digging into her curves.

I watched them, jealousy slicing my gut. Ranger could keep his money and his cars. I just wanted his woman.

Tank had the FTA secured in the backseat of the SUV and I slid into the passenger seat, resigning myself to returning to my cold bed alone. Or maybe I'd head over to a local dive to pick up a brainless bimbo. At least I could have company in my loneliness.

"Ranger's a lucky bastard," I muttered to myself.

"You're right about that, Cal," Tank said, turning the engine over and pulling away from the curb.

Great, I thought to myself, grimacing. Knowing Tank, he'd use this to his advantage.

My life was no longer my own. Like the FTA in the back seat, I too had been caught by Stephanie Plum and Tank knew it.


	5. Guarded

Title: Guarded

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money, but I don't get any sleep at night because they won't leave me alone.

A/N: This is the 5th in the Ranger's a Lucky Bastard series. Set post EOT, in a world where Ranger and Steph are a couple.

Rating: R

Hal's POV

Two hours, three shoe stores and at least a dozen pairs of shoes and she still hadn't bought a single thing. I looked at my watch covertly and groaned to myself. I had two more hours on my shift and it looked like Stephanie was going to spend all of it here at the Quaker Bridge Mall. Shoe shopping was about as exciting as watching curling on television, in other words, not at all. She was probably doing it on purpose to torture me and Tank. She really hated having babysitters.

I liked working with Stephanie on the whole. Normally she was very considerate and sweet and very good at her job. But when Ranger tried to keep her safe against her will, all that went right out the window. She tended to rebel. There was that time when she stunned me to leave the Haywood building, for instance. Man, I still took shit for that. At the time I'd been an easy mark because I'd looked at her wide, guileless blue eyes and gone to total mush. She'd asked for the stun gun and I hadn't even thought twice before handing it over.

I'd gotten a little wiser since then. I'd learned that failing to protect Stephanie, no matter the reason, was not a good way to get on Ranger's good side, but was a good way to become intimately familiar with every square inch of stairwell in the Haywood building.

I'd also learned Stephanie could be devious underneath her soft, sweet exterior. There was a bit of a bad girl in there.

Tank and I were on Plum-watch today because – surprise, surprise – Stephanie had another stalker. So far there had just been some secret admirer letters and she, of course, wasn't worried. Ranger, however, wasn't taking any chances. She had a shadow 24/7 until the latest psycho was identified and eliminated per Ranger's orders. Since we would all rather take a bullet than defy Ranger, we'd put up with any kind of torment she could come up with. Even if it meant spending the afternoon fighting holiday shoppers at the mall.

I stood silently and still, two feet in front of where she sat trying on a pair of high heel shoes that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Cute, though. Other shoppers milled about and I scanned for anything suspicious. I hated that she was in such an exposed area. I mean there was little I could do in this situation if a trained sniper was targeting her from across the mall, except try to be in the way. That would be a lose-lose situation for me. Either, I would get shot by the sniper or Stephanie would get shot by the sniper and then I'd get shot by Ranger. In both scenarios I ended up with a gaping, bleeding hole in my body. Not my idea of fun.

I wished we could just lock Stephanie in a safe house somewhere, but since the threat was still at a relatively low level, Stephanie insisted on going to the mall. She had somehow persuaded Ranger to agree. Well, I was pretty sure I could imagine how she persuaded Ranger and I could only wish I were him. He'd gotten the benefits, Tank and I'd been stuck with the punishment. Life just wasn't fair, but at least I was getting time-and-a-half hazard pay.

Stephanie finally stood to leave the shoe store and I was only too happy to move along. It wasn't smart to spend a lot of time in one spot. Plus, I had seen too many pairs of ugly, old feet stuffed into one-size-too-small, open-toed shoes. I shuddered at the thought. Gah.

Stephanie walked around me and I moved into step at her side. Tank walked a few steps behind us. We really would be pretty useless in a sniper situation, but if kidnapping was the objective, our presence would be a decent deterrent provided we stuck close and remained watchful.

Curious glances followed our progress making it more difficult to single out a madman from the rest of the crowd. Still, Tank and I remained alert for anyone with an unusual level of interest and watched to see if anyone was tailing us on our shopping excursion. Stephanie walked in silence, passing by several windows, pausing in front of others. She didn't show any interest in entering any of the stores until we reached Victoria's Secret.

Fuck.

She flashed me a wicked grin and passed into the bastion of womanhood.

I groaned out loud as I hesitated on the threshold. Next time I had a Ranger sanctioned opportunity to stun her, I was taking it. She was just being evil now. Tank put his hand on my shoulder and nudged me forward, "We've gotta suck it up, man. Just try to keep your mind off your dick."

I walked in reluctantly and tried to avoid brushing against the racks of sexy, shiny, see-through apparel. If only I could melt into the background. Blend in. I don't normally blend well, I mean I'm a big guy, but a 6-foot-4 man in all black tended to stick out like a sore thumb in the land of delicate feminine underthings. This was uncomfortable and I was getting strange looks from other customers. They probably thought I was a pervert or something. Hell, I felt like a pervert or something.

I surveyed the area, trying not to let my gaze linger on the displays of bras along the walls or the women shuffling through rainbows of underwear. Oh God, get me out of here before I embarrass myself.

I walked to Stephanie's side where she was browsing through a rack of lingerie. She held up a barely-there piece of black silk and I tried not to imagine it clinging to her curves, exposing smooth, milky-white skin all the right places. My mouth went dryer than the Sahara and my pants were becoming uncomfortable.

Then she held up the matching thong. Shit.

I barely stopped my knees from buckling and sweat beaded on my forehead. I was glad that Tank had his back to me, vigilantly watching for trouble, because I'd be a dead man if Ranger ever got wind of this. The mental image of Stephanie in that outfit could be my death sentence. Or rather the mental image of me helping her remove that outfit would, but I just couldn't stop my mind from going there.

Oblivious to my reactions, Stephanie plucked another off the rack, this one in sapphire blue satin accompanied by a matching concoction of lace and string that could hardly be called underwear. Ah hell, to be Ranger for a day would be an amazing thing.

Stephanie turned to me with both the black and blue outfits extended and silently asked for my opinion. I stood stoically, staring intently, but unseeingly, at the people milling about. I was unable to answer her for the lump in my throat even if I'd wanted to. When she finally realized that I wasn't going to answer, she lifted one shoulder in a 'fine, be that way' gesture and sashayed over to the cashier with both ensembles.

I followed her to the cash register, while Tank took a call on his cell. After a moment he approached me, "Ranger's here. They figured out who the stalker is and the police have the suspect in custody. He's taking her down to the station to make a statement and we're heading back to Haywood." I nodded. Good. I hoped they had the right guy and could manage to book him for something that would keep him out of Stephanie's hair permanently.

As Stephanie received her little pink-striped bag from the cashier, Ranger came striding into the store, oblivious to the hot stares from the women surrounding him, focused completely on Stephanie. He nodded in greeting to me and Tank but didn't stop until he reached her side.

When she saw him, her eyes lit up and she threw herself into his arms as though they had been separated for days not hours. After a moment they parted and Ranger started to guide her to the exit, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. Tank and I followed at a bit of a distance, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.

They paused at the store exit and I watched as Stephanie lifted her new purchases out of the little bag, showing them to Ranger. I stood enthralled as he looked at the flimsy nightgowns and swallowed hard. She tucked them back into the bag and rose up on her toes, cupping her hand around Ranger's ear. Stephanie whispered something that caused her eyes to twinkle and his to go dark. Then she flashed that wicked grin of hers and hurried out of his reach, laughing. He followed after her, his own laughter trailing behind him.

I could only imagine what she'd said, something naughty and sexy, no doubt. Underneath the sweet Burg girl exterior, Stephanie was a definitely a bit of a bad girl. And God help me, I liked it.

"Ranger's a lucky bastard," I murmured wondering how one man could be so fortunate.

"You're right about that, Hal," Tank said from next to me. I gulped. Shit, I probably should have kept that thought to myself. I slid my eyes over to Tank and saw a shit-eating grin on his face.

Well, what the fuck. I doubted I'd catch any more shit for this than for letting Stephanie escape into the clutches of the Slayers. I'd survive.

Plus, if I got stuck cleaning the stairwell with a toothbrush again, at least I'd have visions of Stephanie in blue satin to keep me company.

The End

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Thanks to all who reviewed Cal's chapter, it was greatly appreciated. Hal really wants to know what you think, so please let us know!


	6. Impacted

Title: Impacted

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They aren't mine. And that is just the most depressing thought I'll have all day.

A/N: This is the 6th in the Ranger's a Lucky Bastard series. Set post EOT, in a world where Ranger and Steph are a couple.

Rating: R

Ram's POV

Working down on the gun range was a little like working in a cave. There were no windows since it was the basement; the only light came from dingy fluorescent bulbs overhead. It was cool and damp, and there was a metallic bite to the air. Usually we rotated through this post, one of us taking an hour each day to make sure that the range supplies were well stocked, that ammo had been ordered and received, and that RangeMan weapons were properly cleaned and stored - that kind of thing.

But, I'd been stuck down here full time for a week so far and I was about an hour away from developing a hunch, searching for _My Precious_ and requiring that anyone wanting to use the range answer three riddles before granting them access.

There were good reasons why men weren't assigned this duty station on a permanent basis, not the least of which was there wasn't a lot to do. There were also some very good reasons why I was stuck down here right now. Partly it was because I'd been injured while on duty, so I was on medical restriction for the next four weeks. Mostly it was because I'd injured myself with my own gun. Shot myself right in the foot. Uh, yes, I am a dumb ass.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened. I was just holstering my weapon when it discharged and I swear I had the safety on. But the proof, as my grandma says, is in the pudding. Or in this case it's in the hole in my foot. It was a stupid rooky mistake, but I guess it could have been worse, because I really only nicked it. Too bad there were witnesses. When it happened, Tank nearly pissed himself laughing. It took five minutes before he was calm enough to drive me to the hospital. Hell, even the skip thought it was a riot. Fortunately we'd already secured him, 'cause if I'd screwed up that particular capture I'd have gone from the hospital right to the unemployment office.

Because of my little accident, Tank decided that I needed to learn something about gun safety, so I was stuck down here until I was back in the field. And since it wasn't a full time job, I spent most of my time practicing or watching the other guys. Practicing was fine for the first hour or so, but watching someone else shooting pretty much sucked. Unless they're shooting at you it's kinda snore inducing. Like watching someone else curling, it's only fun if you're participating, one way or the other.

I was practicing in one of the lanes when Stephanie Plum stepped into the range. Sighing to myself, I set down my weapon and wished I'd been hiding out in the storeroom. It's not that I didn't like her. What wasn't to like? Long legs, bright smile and eyes so blue I'd swear they weren't real. It's just usually I kept my distance from Stephanie. 'Cause whenever she was around, I felt like I was in a fog and in this line of work, anything that dulled your senses was dangerous.

I nodded at her politely and waited for her to put on her protective gear before I started my shooting up again. She smiled as she settled her headset over her dark curls and I tried to smile back. At least, I think I smiled. My brain sort of disconnected from my body whenever I looked at her. Really I didn't do well around women in general. They made me uncomfortable and I was always tripping over my feet or my tongue or both. With Stephanie, though, it was worse.

I've always wished I was one of those guys that had an easy time with women, but I'm not. Lester could walk up to a perfect stranger, flash her a smile and have her wrapped around his finger. Hell, even Cal with his skull tattoo had better luck than me. And Ranger, well Ranger wasn't even interested in the women that threw themselves at him, but they still did it wherever he went all the same. Me, I became a bumbling, stumbling fool and all I seemed to attract were mildly pitying stares.

I turned my attention to the little black target at the far end of the range and took aim, trying not to notice the slight floral fragrance that had followed Stephanie in. I ignored my sweaty palms and squeezed the trigger. I smiled to myself when I saw a hole appear in the forehead of the target man. Thank God I didn't embarrass myself by missing - that would have been too much.

For long minutes, we stood next to each other, but I have to admit my attention was more on the woman beside me than where I was aiming. She was shooting her Sig Sauer 9 and I was impressed. She was a better shot than most of the guys. Before long I'd abandoned all pretense of my own practice and watched her empty her clip. As she pressed the button to retrieve the target, she noticed that I was watching. Steph held up her man bearing clusters of holes in his head and chest with a grin.

I nodded in response and looked down at the gun in my hand. I'd been shooting a Colt Double Eagle. It was heavier with a little more kick and wordlessly, I offered it to her to try. She took it from my hand and I tried not to react to the brush of her fingers against my palm.

She sent a fresh sheet toward the back of the range and took up her stance. When she fired, the gun kicked heavily and she rocked back. The bullet went wide, grazing the far right edge of the paper. Giving me a rueful grin, Stephanie took up her stance again. That was something a really admired about her. She just never gave up.

Watching her, I noticed that her arms were extended too far and her grip was too tight. Probably it was just overcompensation for the unfamiliar weight of my gun. I wanted to slide in behind her and show her how to absorb the kick, but I didn't dare get that close. Instead, I touched her arm, motioning for her to ease up a bit. With her hands relaxed, she tried again, this time doing much better and hitting the target's shoulder.

A bright smile lit her face and when she turned it on me, I swear it hit me as if it were hurtling at me from the gun in her hand. Right in heart. Stunned, I stepped away from her and the overwhelming desire to put my arms around her. With an uncertain look, she held the gun out to me, but I motioned for her to keep practicing. There was no use in me practicing right now - my hands were shaking so badly, I wouldn't have been able to hit the side of a barn.

I needed space, fresh air, a cold shower, but I was stuck here in this little room, with her and her maddening perfume and my attraction to her.

Groaning, I turned away and walked to the corner to pick up the broom that was leaning against the wall.

While I applied myself to sweeping up every last spent casing, Ranger came in. He tilted his head at me in greeting as he walked right up behind Stephanie, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned against him and tilted her head back. Not wanting to intrude, I turned away as they kissed hello - not that they seemed to mind that they had an audience.

When I chanced another look, Stephanie was shooting again, still using my weapon and Ranger was watching her closely. Just as I had longed to do, he moved behind her to help correct her stance, his body conforming to hers. Her body obeyed, and when she squeezed the trigger, it hit dead center, between the eyes. For several shots he remained pressed against her back and between each, she wiggled her hips, deliberately teasing him. Finally, he bent his head down, pulling her headset away from her ear to whisper in it and with one last wriggle, she pulled away from him to gather her things.

After stuffing her gun in her bag, she turned to Ranger and he slid an arm behind her back, his hand finding its way into the back pocket of her jeans. Guiding her toward the door, he nodded to me as they left, but Steph only had eyes for him. She looked at him like he had hung the moon in the sky. And for the first time I felt jealous of Ranger.

I turned back to my sweeping as they left and wondered how a guy could be so blessed. It just didn't seem fair. I'd love to have any woman look at me that way, but especially one as amazing as Stephanie.

I bent down to brush the debris into a dustpan and said, "Ranger's a lucky bastard."

When I stood back up, I saw Tank standing over me. He reached toward me, raised my headset off of one ear and said, "You've got that right, Ram." Then he turned and walked to the gun lane that Stephanie had just vacated.

I stood stock-still, watching as Tank pulled out his Glock and wondered if I'd ever get out of the shit. Tank had spread the word of my last embarrassment far and wide. I wondered how long it would be before the rest of the team knew I'd been shot again, this time by Cupid.

The End


	7. Cleansed

**Title**: Cleansed

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: Still not mine and I'll put them back when I'm done. Well maybe not Lester, or Woody, or Hal, or…

**A/N**: This is the 7th and final installment in the Ranger's a Lucky Bastard series. Set post EOT, in a world where Ranger and Steph are a couple. On a side note, I started this series almost two years ago (!!) and at the time, Tank and Lula weren't officially a couple, yet. So in this series, Tank is a single man.

**Rating**: R

Tank's POV

A few years ago when Ranger told me he'd hired a woman to help out on some of Rangeman's jobs, I thought he'd lost his damned mind. Or maybe just a bet. The only woman I'd ever met who could hold her own in our world was Jeanne Ellen Burrows and frankly I thought she was sporting a pair of brass ones under all that leather. But this new woman wasn't Buffy incarnate like Jeanne Ellen. She was a novice. So the only explanation I could come up with was Ranger must have been on something when he agreed to give the girl a job.

Then I met Stephanie for the first time and I figured maybe Ranger wasn't thinking with the head on his shoulders, if you know what I mean. She was hot. Curvy in all the right places with full lips that a man could picture doing all kinds of wicked things. I could see how a woman like that could wrap a man around her little finger, even a man like Ranger. And being around her was one hell of an adrenaline rush. Five years in the Army, three of those doing some crazy shit I couldn't even talk about, didn't come close to the danger surrounding Stephanie Plum on an average day.

My unofficial job at Rangeman had become minimizing the fall-out from Stephanie related disasters. I arranged duty shifts so that there was always someone monitoring her GPS trackers, discreetly trailing her vehicles and keeping tabs on her enemies. That was just SOP – Standard Operating Procedure. When there was an imminent threat like an active stalker, I assigned teams to guard her body, others to follow her entourage at a distance and more men to work on staying one step ahead of her psycho-du-jour. And when the shit really hit the fan and she went MIA, which happened more often than you'd think, all other Rangeman activities ground to a halt and every single resource we had was entirely focused on getting her back in one piece.

Since Stephanie had come to work at Rangeman, we didn't often reach DEFCON 1, but it had happened once or twice. And no one complained about working back to back shifts in those situations because we weren't just saving her as a favor to Ranger or because we were getting a paycheck. We did it because every single one of us had a thing for her to some extent, a hard-on at the very least. Most of the men would take a bullet for her just on the off chance that she might sit with them in the hospital. Some of the men were so desperately in love that I wondered if Ranger might need to watch his back around his own crew.

It seemed everywhere I turned there was another Rangeman with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, a dazed, faraway look on his face and visions of Stephanie dancing through his head. And Ranger, lucky bastard that he was, was even luckier that I was there to remind the men I was watching. And I loved doing that – catching them in the act – more than anything else.

Of course being the mercenary that I was, I used the knowledge to my advantage. For instance, I never had a problem getting the men to work holidays. I always got control of the remote when we were hanging out in the common room. And no one gave me shit anymore if I wanted to watch curling all night long. (Yes, curling. What can I say? I was raised with my mother's family in Quebec and I was lead on my high school curling team.)

Anyway, today the team was doing some "interior decorating" as Stephanie liked to call it, just like the first time I'd met her. A lot had changed since then, especially her skill level. On that first job, she'd forgotten to wear her gun, she'd worried about getting into trouble, she didn't love that I threw a crackhead out of a window and she was the last through the door. Now she was packing heat and not just in her wonder bra. She had at least two guns and a knife on her body, a specially fitted Kevlar vest and the SEALs hat that Ranger had given her. She would be the first through the door if she had her way and was as eager to kick ass as the rest of us.

It's not often that a zebra changes its stripes, but Stephanie Plum wasn't any ordinary zebra.

I looked over the team as we assembled around the corner from our target. The owners of the house we were cleaning out were absentee landlords and they'd made a poor choice in tenants. While this had once been a nice neighborhood, now it had gone to seed and the rental property attracted the worst kinds of trash. A call from the property manager and we were ready to do what we did best – enforce the spirit of the law, if not the letter.

Once we were all dressed and wired for communication, we broke into two groups. The first was going through the front with Ranger on point and me to follow one step behind covering low. Bobby would be the next in, followed by Stephanie and Cal. There was a back door opening onto a cracked and stained patio and the second group was covering that entrance with Lester and Hal first in and Ram and Woody backing them up.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Stephanie rubbing Cal's tattoo for luck and chuckled to myself. Badass Cal may have fallen hardest of all for the charms of Ms. Plum. It was lucky for him that Ranger missed, or more likely overlooked, the love-struck look in his eyes. And Bobby was lucky that Ranger hadn't caught him staring at Stephanie's ass when she bent over to check the weapon at her ankle, because that wasn't something Ranger would ignore.

As my team assembled on the front porch I could hear humming through the crackle of my headset answered by groans from the other men. That same damned song had been in Lester's head since Stephanie wore red to a distraction last week. You couldn't man a monitor in Rangeman without hearing "Lady in red is dancing with me. Cheek to cheek…" Just ask Woody. And with a smartassed comment, Woody confirmed it. There was quiet laughter over the wire to which Lester defensively responded with a barbed remark to Ram about trying not to shoot himself. More quiet laughter to which Ram answered with a sarcastic reminder for Hal not to let the bad guys talk him out of his weapon.

The chuckles which followed this were cut off with a terse command from Ranger for silence and a reminder to focus on the goal. We didn't need to be reminded twice. We were about to storm a multi-story building, home to an assortment of drug dealers, users and sexual abusers, as well as a volatile meth lab. We'd planned the early morning raid in the hopes that most of the occupants would be passed out, but still it paid to be cautious.

On Ranger's signal my team moved in through the front door, silently clearing the hallway. The front room was empty and we moved through the adjacent rooms, clearing each before we moved on. In the living room, we met up with the team from the back entrance and with a few silent hand signals from Ranger, separated again to check the basement and upstairs bedrooms.

In a matter of a few minutes we had subdued almost a dozen men and women, in all states of dress and undress, most so wasted that getting them cuffed and down the stairs was only challenging because they couldn't figure out how to use their feet. No shots were fired and no one was thrown out of a window. All in all it was a rather boring day outside of the office.

Famous last words – or in this case – thought. Stephanie would kick me if she knew how I'd jinxed us.

We were assembling all of the occupants for transport in the living room when it happened. All of the Rangemen were in the room, most with guns stowed to free their hands for dragging half conscious addicts around. Ranger was overseeing the process with his back to the kitchen, a large space that had been adapted to make more than macaroni and cheese. There were vats of chemicals on the counters and in the cupboards sufficient to get half the population of Trenton higher than a kite.

The man emerged from I'm not sure where, maybe the pantry, with a gun and a wild look in his eyes, both trained on Ranger. It was rare that someone got the drop on Ranger, but here it was happening in real time. The man was clearly high, ranting about a man's house being his castle and aiming for the back of Ranger's head. My gun was trained on the floor, and I swung it up afraid that aiming toward the kitchen as I was, I'd accidentally blow the house, and all of us, sky high.

There was a loud report before I'd even trained my weapon on the psycho, but the smoking gun wasn't pointing at Ranger as I initially feared. It had discharged harmlessly toward the ceiling before being knocked from the criminal's grip by a few well aimed kicks from Stephanie. She had managed to sneak up on him by doubling back through the dining room before the rest of us even registered there was a problem. In a smooth move, she took the guy to the floor, and had him trussed like a Christmas goose.

Ranger, unflappable as always, turned to Stephanie with a grateful "Babe" on his lips. Stephanie wasn't nearly so calm. She rose, trembling from adrenaline and fear of what might have happened before flinging herself into Ranger's arms with a small cry. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him like her life depended on it.

Ah, to be in his shoes, I thought as I watched. "Ranger's a lucky bastard."

"You've got that right, Tank," chorused the six men surrounding me, their smug words echoing through my earpiece compounding the sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I met the eyes of each man with their shit eating grins and knowing looks.

Fuck. Maybe it was time to come clean and admit I was just as hooked on Stephanie Plum as the rest of them. But then, curling is coming on tonight, so maybe not.

"What? He could have been killed," I said in explanation, face blank, daring them to contradict me, hoping they bought my bluff. Time to change the subject.

I cleared my throat, trying and failing to get the attention of the couple who was now the main attraction. "Why don't you two get a room? We've got this covered." For a few long moments we watched, me, the men and the crackheads, until finally and without coming up for air, Stephanie pulled Ranger out the open front door.

We could still hear the kissing sounds through the headset as we moved around the room, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. There was a feminine giggle followed by a rumbling chuckle from Ranger. With a deep sigh, I shifted to ease the tightness of my pants and looked around at my teammates. There it was. That dazed, I've-just-been-struck-by-Stephanie-Plum fever, look. And I had no doubt that I looked exactly the same way. We were all in the same state and likely to stay that way all because of one man and the lady he brought into our world.

"The guys are right, Babe," we heard Ranger growl between kisses before they ventured out of range and the line was overrun by static, "I _am_ a lucky bastard."


End file.
